


We're keeping it, aren't we?

by donquichotte



Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - maybe, Fluff, Gen, ambiguous setting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-13 02:38:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2133969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donquichotte/pseuds/donquichotte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve finds a dog. </p><p>Bucky knows where this is going.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We're keeping it, aren't we?

When Bucky comes home from his latest mission, he's expecting Steve and dinner to be waiting for him, and a hot shower to follow.

Dinner is on the counter ready to be inhaled, but Steve is nowhere in sight and he's hearing noises coming from the bathroom that fill him with a sudden certainty that the shower is not in his near future.

Steeling himself, Bucky puts his empty plate in the sink and marches to the bathroom, where –

“What the fuck is that?”

“A dog,” Steve answers peaceably, on his knees beside the tub.

Uh-huh. The _thing_ in their bathroom is vaguely dog-like, sure, in that it's four-legged and hairy, but from where Bucky's standing, it looks more like three shrubs and an oak tree dragged a small bear through a mud puddle and then sat on it. So, yeah, he kinda doubts Steve's claim.

Apparently satisfied with the water temperature, Steve looks at the _thing._ It looks back.

Bucky looks at the _thing,_ looks at Steve's determined face, and sighs, preparing to help his idiot friend wrestle the creature into the bathtub.

Unnecessarily, it turns out, because Steve fists one hand in the filthy mats on the _thing_ 's scruff, tugs in the direction of the tub, and the animal bounds in. It's less happy about being sprayed by the detachable shower head, but all it takes is a firm squeeze from Steve's large hand, and the beast subsides into vaguely mutinous acceptance.

Bucky watches the proceedings for a few minutes, then huffs, grabs his shampoo and soap, and trudges down to the gym where there are perfectly good showers that have the benefit of not being inhabited by large, unidentifiable mammals.

When he returns to the apartment, Steve has finished with the showering stage and is busy chopping off great hanks of matted fur with kitchen shears.

Bucky can admit that, now that the _thing_ is moderately clean and somewhat groomed – though still fucking _enormous_ , Steve's dog hypothesis is looking more sound.

He sighs.

“We're keeping it, aren't we?”

Steve just smiles.


End file.
